You Will Always Walk With Me, My Friend
by TheCarnivalAct
Summary: "I will keep a part of you with me. Always."


You Will Always Walk With Me, My Friend

Josh was the one who came up with the idea.

He was always the smartest one of the pair. Everyone typically assumed that Chris was the brains. Most likely because he wore glasses and always was the first to raise his hand in class - but they were wrong. Sure, Christopher had the highest grades out of anyone in their friend group - well, apart from Emily - but he didn't even come close to reaching the summit of the mountain that was Josh's intellect.

No, Josh was the smartest one. A genius, in fact. This wasn't reflected much in his school grades, or his interactions with other people. He wasn't what people call "book smart," but he was a genius. Josh was the one who could always find a solution when Chris thought there wasn't an answer to his obstacles. Josh could always find a light when Chris could only see darkness. Probably because Josh had plenty of practice trying to escape the darkness in his head.

Chris had been there when Josh had his "incident" at school. Josh was eleven; Chris was ten. Chris didn't really understand why Josh had swiped the scissors from the teacher's drawer, or why Josh locked himself in the bathroom stall. He didn't understand when the teacher found Josh with blood in his hands, or why the police took him away. He didn't understand at the time, but he knew that Josh needed him more than ever.

There was a sadness in Josh's eyes after that. A sadness that slowly grew duller every day, and created dark circles under his eyes. It wasn't until his freshman year psychology class that Chris truly understood what depression was. Josh had told him that the doctors gave him medicine to make the sadness go away, and that Josh had to go back to the hospital once a week to speak with a special doctor. Chris didn't understand, but he was there for him.

He was there for the nights when Josh couldn't sleep, lying awake in his bed with hands over his ears. He would mutter things, too quiet for Chris to hear. Josh told him once that he could hear things - things that no one else could hear. Chris had laughed.

He didn't bring it up again.

Maybe Chris shouldn't have laughed at him.

Josh was fifteen when he came up with the idea. Chris was fourteen. It was the first time that Chris had ever visited the famous Mount Washington Ski Lodge. He knew that Josh and his family spent their winter holidays at the lodge - skiing and hunting - and he was excited to be there. Josh's dad had promised to take them hunting. Chris knew that Josh didn't really enjoy hunting, be he liked spending time with his dad. Josh had told him once that his dad treated him differently, after he was diagnosed. Chris had seen it more than once - a glint of fear in Mr. Washington's eyes when he looked at his son. Whether it was fear _for_ his son, or _of_ him - Chris wasn't sure.

Josh's dad had headed back to the lodge, carrying pelts over his shoulder, one day after hunting. Something about the pelts made Chris' hair prickle behind his neck. It seemed that the mountain itself would groan whenever an animal fell to their bullets - but it was too faint for Chris to be sure. He often wondered if Josh heard it too, but decided not to ask.

The two of them sat on the tweed rug in front of a fire, holed up in the cabin that the Washington's had built at the same time as their lodge. Chris sat cross legged, twiddling with the laces of his boots while Josh stretched his legs in front of him, staring into the flames of fire that licked the iron edges of the fireplace. They sat in a comfortable silence, finally warm after hours of hunting on the snowy mountainside.

Chris shifted his legs to tie his other boot, and groaned with frustration. The side of his boot, which was crusted with snow and mud, had torn open to reveal his black wool socks underneath. He pinched the seam, grimacing at it. "Shit," He muttered.

"What?" Josh had asked, not tearing his gaze away from the fire.

"Damn things got a hole in it." Chris gave up on the seam, scowling at the hole that spread wider as he flexed his foot.

Josh turned his head, eyeing Chris' boot. He was leaning back on his hands, but leaned forward to examine the boot further. "It's a goner, man." Josh replied, "You're going to have to amputate it."

Chris snorted, moving his foot to stretch his legs out in front of him as Josh was. "You're so dramatic. I see that theatrics run in the family." He flicked a speck of mud from the toe of his boot, watching as it landed in the fire, "These boots were expensive, though. My feet are going to freeze as soon as we go outside."

Josh rolled his eyes. He leaned forward and unlaced his left boot before slipping it off of his shoe. He wore a pair of black wool socks as well, labelled with a brand name that Chris had never heard of. Josh wiped off the mud and snow from the sole of the boot before handing it over to the boy who sat next to him. "Here, let's trade. I don't mind getting cold."

"What?" Chris scrunched up his nose, "You want me to wear your smelly boot?"

"Come on, man." Josh shoved him on the shoulder playfully, "It's just a boot. Now, do you want your feet to freeze, or not?"

Chris stared at him for a moment, before snatching the boot from Josh's hand. He quickly unlaced his torn boot, revealing his socks with a hole in the toe. Josh didn't acknowledge it. He'd learned long ago not to mention Chris' lack of money - and therefore lack of more durable clothing. Josh took Chris' torn boot and quickly slipped it onto his foot, scoffing as the hole tore slightly more.

"Now I feel weird, wearing two types of shoes." Chris muttered, lacing up Josh's boot and flexing his toes inside. "Good thing we wear the same size, though."

"I couldn't let little Chrissy freeze his toes off." Josh teased, leaning back on his hands. He stared at the fire for a few moments more, before narrowing his eyes and speaking again, "It's not such a bad idea."

"What? Freezing my toes off?"

"No, idiot." Josh replied, not looking away from the flames, "Wearing each other's shoes."

"Okay… you've lost me."

Josh rolled his eyes and turned to face Chris, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "I'm serious, Chris." He replied, "We could each wear one of the other's shoes. That way, we're always walking together."

Chris furrowed his brow, gazing at his friend with a questioning look. Before he could reply, Josh went on, "You know how, sometimes, I don't always feel safe talking to the doctors?"

Chris nodded.

"Well, if I'm wearing one of your shoes, it'll be like you're there with me." Josh explained, "I'll feel safer. A-and you will have me there for support while you're off courting Ashley."

"Ash is just a fr-"

"Friend, yeah sure." Josh snorted, "But you get the picture."

Chris tilted his head, thinking over the idea. He wasn't sure how wearing a shoe could affect someone's confidence, but there were a lot of things he wasn't sure about with Josh. He knew that Josh needed all the support he could get, and Chris figured that this shoe idea might work. He didn't totally understand the logic behind it - but he couldn't say no. He didn't understand a lot about Josh, but he was always willing to support him. "Sure, buddy." Chris replied, "That's a pretty good idea."

Josh smiled, leaning back on his palms again and looking into the fire. Chris followed his gaze and the two sat there for a while, until the sun began to sink behind the trees, and they headed back to the lodge.

For the next five years, Chris and Josh always wore each other's shoes. Chris would walk around school, wearing one of his ratty sneakers, and one of Josh's more expensive moccasins. Josh would do the same. Chris quickly realized that Josh was right. Wherever he was, he always felt that he had Josh with him. Wherever he walked, Josh was by his side.

That awful night at the lodge, when Chris feared for his life at being chased by a psychotic murderer, the feeling of Josh beside him gave him the strength to push forward. Even after he thought that his friend had been killed, he felt that Josh was always by his side. Even after Josh revealed himself to be the psycho, Chris felt oddly comforted by wearing his best friend's shoe.

He wondered how he didn't notice that the Psycho was wearing two types of shoes the entire time.

When Mike told him that Josh had been killed, it had felt like something had torn his heart in two. He was furious with Josh for the night of hell he'd been put through - but he hadn't wanted his best friend to die. Chris didn't understand why Josh had done it, but he couldn't leave him. He didn't understand a lot of things about Josh.

A part of him hoped that Josh was finally happy. He hoped that the sadness in Josh's eyes was gone, and replaced by the light that had once burned in them so fiercely. The other half of him desperately wanted his best friend back. He didn't understand a lot about Josh, but he finally understood Josh's pain.

The torture that Chris and the others had been through that night was nothing compared to the torture that plagued Josh during his life. Chris barely made it out alive in one night, and he finally understood why Josh had done it. He understood the true terrors that Josh needed to feel safe from. He understood why Josh always wanted to keep a part of Chris with him, to keep him safe.

Chris had sat in the snow, staring at the burning ruins of the Washington's lodge, feeling his heart shatter. He'd failed to help Josh when his friend needed him the most. He hoped that Josh could forgive him.

"I'm so sorry, Josh." Chris whispered as he stared into the flames, "I'm so sorry. I'll carry a part of you with me forever. You'll always walk with me, my friend."


End file.
